


Wintry

by i_bananacake



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst, Brothers, Hell, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, M/M, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, Short, Should I tag this as incest?, Vergil loves Dante so fucking much, dante is sad, danver week, vergil is scared
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-19 03:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22804459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_bananacake/pseuds/i_bananacake
Summary: After fighting demons, Vergil finds himself to be alone in the middle of hell. His heart arches with memories of the past and his body freezes screaming to be saved.
Relationships: Dante/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Kudos: 64





	Wintry

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn’t able to do all days because I got here too late, but I’m doing, at least, three fics for DanVer week ^^  
> I'm a little rusty with angst, hurt/confort themes lol. It's been a while since the last time I did something like this so I hope it’s decent.  
> Enjoy!

He was there. Standing in the middle of the field. In one hand, Yamato was sweating sticky red drops, painting the dead soil in a puddle of pain, in the other; his loose fingers suffered slight spasms of tiredness after hours pressing the sword's hem.

There was nothing around him but the calm wind making the grass dance, hitting his thigh in a smooth, uninterrupted rhythm and rustling gently his hair back.

Screams of terror, howls of despair and echoes of supplication were no longer scattered in the corners. The silence so unusual in that place turned the man’s presence into a ghost forgotten in the fog of the past. However, strangely, this melting sound of nothing, didn’t sound like the whisper of angels, did not bring the peace that it should.

Like chains, silence crawled up his legs, squeezing his flesh and spreading over his body like a drop of blood falling into the sea. Disturbing. Empty.

His eyes watched the infinite field of bluish grass surrounding him in that lockless cage. He couldn’t see the mutilated bodies lying at his feet, but he saw the blood roots turning to ash as gray as the color of the sky above him, smelling of burn making it hard to breathe.

Although his face kept the stoic feeling of power, his heart was beating desperately against his chest. Blue eyes reflected nothingness, blinking painfully, his dry lips tried to call for someone with no voice, leaving a helpless tremor on his face.

His hands closed, clenching his fists in a stupid attempt to hold on to anything while fearing taking a single step forward. He fought against himself in his darkness. In the silence.

_Alone again._

_Here._

The putrid smell of blood reached his nostrils and without asking permission, darkened his mind with memories of struggles from years, days or even minutes ago. He looked down, without moving his head, afraid of what he was going to find. His boots plunged into the thick puddle and the reflection of a crimson sky over his head frozen under his feet. A scream caught in his throat.

_Alone here._

He heard the coarse rustling of the grass, and although his body wanted to instinctively turn and attack whatever it was, his mind forbade him to move. He couldn't turn around. Behind his eyes countless images of past terrors were forming, coming back to haunt him like screams on a moonless night. His grasp on the sword got tighter.

“I found a decent place to rest.”

The voice broke the silence like a punch to a weakened windshield. His stiffened body shivered, his eyes widened, making the icy glow that covered them a whitish gray of fear.

The words melted like sand around him, turning into a storm of uncertainty that blew on the back of his neck and hit his ears. It didn't matter what that voice had said, he had already forgotten, but that voice alone made his body tremble as a scared child that was once forgotten at the school door.

He didn't wanted to turn around. Fear still held his heart with claws of a hungry falcon. If that voice was a hallucination, then so be it. He only wanted to hear it some more and stay away from that cold, heartless silence.

“Vergil?”

He couldn't turn around. His hand trembled as his eyes closed trying to ward off images of mischievous demons that so often made him scream.

“What's wrong? Vergil?”

A firm hand grabbed his shoulder and quickly pulled him to look in his direction.

The hand on the sword clenched, ready to hit the head of whatever. His body spun on his heels and his eyes saw the face before his mind reacted.

It was him. _Dante_. The face standing in front of him was tired with worried eyes marked by age in the corners. His heart froze as he watched the long messy hair and his terrible beard becoming a sign of a life they couldn't avoid.

He wanted to call his name and hear his voice answering, saying he wasn't crazy, saying he wasn't alone.

Vergil's face was sweating cold when his empty hand unconsciously stretched, reaching in terror for the other man's cheek, trying to find the answer.

Dante felt his trembling fingers timidly touch his skin as if he were afraid to feel it. Then, a light squeeze and, finally, the gentle slide down his chin. His eyes were saddened to see his brother's face so feverish in confusion.

“Vergil… I'm here” _Nightmares_ , he thought. Vergil was daydreaming. He knew it and because of it, he spoke slowly and quietly as if he was afraid that his voice could possibly hurt him.

“Yes…” relief cut the silence from his lips with a painful whisper.

His hand finally eased his grip on the sword, almost dropping it. Dante approached him. One step closer. His hands touched Vergil's face, wiping blood marks on his cheek. Another step. His forehead touched his and his eyes locked, diving into fears, trying to hold one another.

“And I am going nowhere without you.”

Vergil did not close his eyes, but his shoulders fell in defeat, tired, accepting the comfort that the gentle smile on his brother’s face brought into him. Silence surrounded him again, but this time it did not cage him. This time he didn't had to be alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I always have a hard time working with Vergil, but this time it just went right so easily. I think pain suits him well (sorry :( ) and I like to illustrate loneliness so... Maybe I have found the way with him :D  
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> Twitter: i_bananacake


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